


You Look so Pretty

by daring_elm



Series: You Look so Pretty but You're Gone so Soon [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: (more specifically 1940s-late '50s), Alternate Universe - Historical, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Unhappy Ending, Violence, i love them a lot and i love childhood friends to lovers so here we are, moxiety is just super sweet okay??, oh also it's the Old Days so warnings:, this is researched but only on important stuff i apologise for inaccuracies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-10-03 22:21:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 10,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20460422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daring_elm/pseuds/daring_elm
Summary: A series of oneshots in the story of Patton and Virgil, starting at an age where they're too young to know about love and following them as they find it in each other.





	1. Ready Now

**Author's Note:**

> ok so remember how i said i'm never doing historical fiction ever again? that was a lie. but hey, this idea was too sweet not to use  
besides, the historical aspect will be important later in the series :p
> 
> warnings for the first chapter: (playful) fighting; fireworks

Patton shrieked as Virgil ran after him, a sparkler in hand. He had to slow down to avoid slippery patches on the wet grass, an obstacle that wasn't eased by the sun setting behind the trees, making the lake shimmer and sparkle as if tiny diamonds had been strewn over the surface.

Virgil splashed through a puddle, waving the sparkler in front of him like a thin, glowing sword. His clothes were soaked with muddy water, his shoes and socks discarded near the table where Momma was sitting and watching them play.

Patton adjusted his glasses as he dashed between two cherry trees, watching gleefully as Virgil's sparkler burnt down. "I got you now!" He ran out, tripped on a root and inadvertently tackled Virgil, making them both fall to the ground.

Virgil giggled, turning so he was on top again. He blocked Patton's attempt to squirm free by holding his shoulder to the ground, squeaking when Patton swiped at his face (and ended up only reaching his arm instead). He rolled off of his friend, though, when red lights exploded in the night sky and a loud _boom_ made the world shake.

"_Fireworks!_" Patton called, scrambling to get up. He bounced up and down; his hands stretched towards the sky as if the fiery glow was just an inch away from his grasp, as if he could reach out and touch it.

Virgil grinned, pulling himself off the ground as well. He shoved Patton aside when his waving arms blocked his view, smiling up at him, then flinching ever-so-slightly when another burst of colour let itself be known. Patton glanced down at him with a small frown (he had always been taller than Virgil), then grabbed his arm suddenly, pulling him away. "I know a place I wanna show you," he whispered, grinning wide enough that Virgil could see all three of his tooth-gaps (one where Bobby had punched him at recess, one where he had tripped over that stupid rock and one from something Patton didn't want to talk about). He waved at his mom, then ran off, leaving Virgil to follow behind him.

Virgil dashed after him, calling: "Hey, wait up!" He had to slow down so he wouldn't step on any of the twigs littered over the forest floor. None of them were incredibly dangerous on their own, but still quite painful to trod on barefoot (Virgil had stepped on a wasp last summer, a memorable experience he didn’t want to repeat).

Patton laughed and slowed down, walking backwards and waving at Virgil. "Hurry up, slowpoke!"

Virgil rolled his eyes, then sped up, following Patton through the woods.

It took them around ten minutes, three wrong turns and multiple words Virgil didn't know Patton knew to find the place, a clearance in the middle of a patch of oaks with just enough space between the trees to see a tiny patch of sky above. Patton took two steps onto the soft grass, twirled around and flopped over, patting the space beside him.

Virgil sat down carefully, then relaxed into a lying position, long blades of grass tickling his face. He glanced at Patton through the flowers blocking his view, at the blond curls that were long enough to get caught in his glasses and that he refused to get cut short, at the freckles that appeared everywhere during summer (they had tried to count them, but hadn't gotten past a hundred before they got bored), at how bursts of fireworks lit up his face in a trillion different colours.

He grabbed Patton's hand. "We're gonna be friends forever, right?"

Patton giggled. He plucked a flower from next to Virgil's eye and stuck it behind his ear. "'Course we are! Forever and ever." His fingers intertwined with Virgil's, and he scooted closer until they could see eye to eye. "I mean… If you want to, of course."

Virgil nodded. "Definitely. I'm gonna stick around 'til the end of the world," he promised solemnly.

Patton laughed and laid his head on Virgil's shoulder, and the fireworks that illuminated the night looked like they were just for them.


	2. Before You Start Your Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: mentions of bugs & frogs; very vaguely implied homophobia; insecurities/anxious thoughts; mentions of crying

The air was warm and heavy with sleep; the only sounds Virgil could hear through the night were the ticking of his new watch and Patton's slow breathing. Virgil turned around, rolling on his back and staring at the ceiling. After exactly thirty seconds (he counted), he sat up, his head spinning at the sudden movement, and crawled over to his best friend.

Patton mumbled something when Virgil shook his arm, then squinted at him, blinking the sleep from his eyes. "Vee? Did somethin' happen?" His tongue was still heavy; his words slurred together. He pushed himself up sluggishly, barely able to get his head off his pillow for long enough to stay awake. His eyes closed again as he slowly dropped back down.

Virgil shook him again. "Patton!" he whispered. The darkness felt pressing, the warm air foreign. _He really didn't want to go._

"Yeah, yeah-" Patton propped himself up on his elbow, running a hand over his head. (Patton had cried during his haircut, and Virgil had spent a full week mourning his curls after they got shaved off. But Patton's mother had insisted he needed short hair for school, so they had to go.) He patted the floor around his sleeping bag for his glasses, and finally found them next to Virgil's knee. In a fumbling moment, he set them on the bridge of his nose, then smiled at Virgil. "What's up?"

Virgil looked down tentatively. "I'm scared," he admitted. "I don't want to go to England- what if the ship sinks? What if the others at the school don't like us? What if-"

Patton cut him off by taking his hand. "It doesn't matter if they don't like us, 'kay? I like you and that's enough for me- I'm always gonna be there for you, remember?"

Virgil hummed. "I'm gonna miss the others, though." He looked down at Patton's hands, then his own. His were longer, paler and thinner- Patton liked to tell him he looked like a vampire.

Patton himself could almost pass as an angel- with his blond curls that had been there until last Wednesday, his round cheeks and sky blue eyes, which were hidden behind thick glasses. The only reason he couldn't be an angel (or so he had been told) was that he liked to bring bugs and frogs and any other living thing he could find into the house, which made his mother fuss and his sisters scream. Virgil didn't mind all that, though. He liked how Patton made friends with everyone and everything- in his opinion, that was the best thing about him.

"Yeah, me too." Patton sighed, then added with a tiny smile: "But we can make lots of new friends there!" He brushed his thumb over Virgil's.

Even in the dim light, Virgil could see the freckles on the back of his hand, travelling up his wrist and dotting every inch of skin the sun had touched this summer. He hated the thought of fall coming, and if only because it meant Patton's freckles would disappear.

Momma had called them angel kisses, and she had said it meant that Patton was watched closely by God's angels. Then, when she thought Virgil couldn't hear it, she had muttered that 'the Lord knew that boy would need it'. Virgil still didn't know what she meant, but he didn't dare ask.

"Mm." He looked up, returning Patton's smile, then his face fell to a small frown. _He didn't want to be alone right now._ "...Can I stay with you for tonight?"

"'Course!" Patton slid over in his sleeping bag, giving Virgil enough space to crawl in and get comfortable. There wasn't enough room for them to lie separately, so Virgil ended up resting on Patton's chest while Patton tucked his head under his chin. Their legs automatically intertwined; their arms tightening around each other.

Patton was soft and warm and so _Patton_ in such an amazing way, something that had always been surrounding him, a feeling so familiar that just being close to him was like being a kid again, before school and long trips got in the way. But they would make it through that- they always did. Together, they could do anything.

Before Virgil fell asleep, he caught himself thinking that he actually wouldn't mind kissing Patton- but that thought disappeared as quickly as it came, and soon he drifted off, his breathing slowly matching his best friend's pattern until they were entirely in harmony.


	3. South

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no warnings to speak of!

Patton exhaled, smiling at the tiny clouds forming in front of his mouth. He licked his dry lips, then shoved his hands in his pockets. The sunlight reflecting off the frozen lake made him squint and shake his head, then glance back at Virgil. His friend was drawing something in the snow- Patton couldn't see what it was from here, but he assumed it was something rude. He turned around again, losing himself in the scenery with a sigh. They never got to see snow back home, and even after four years of school here, he hadn't gotten used to it.

His glasses fogged when he exhaled deeply again, making everything look like it was behind a veil, too distant to be real, yet so beautiful. And even though the cold air was nipping at his face and making his cheeks, ears and nose go red, Patton could've stayed there forever, gazing at the ice crystals covering the lake, watching snowflakes dance through the air and thinking about the years they had left behind.

As lost in his trance as he was, he didn't notice Virgil sneaking up from behind. What he did notice, though, were his friend's call: "_Feel how cold my hands are!_" and ten freezing fingers shoved down the back of his shirt.

Patton squealed and squirmed away, lightly punching him in the side. "Hey!" He crossed his arms with a pout.

Virgil grinned at him. "What's wrong?" He cracked his knuckles, rubbing his palms together.

Patton glared at him playfully. He ran his hand over his nape to chase away the icy sensation, then whined: "You know what you did!"

"Do I?" Virgil wiggled his red-tipped fingers, making Patton giggle, then waved him over. "C'mon, look at what I drew!"

Patton had to step carefully so he wouldn't slip on the frozen pathway, the snow that had fallen on it flattened by several pairs of heavy boots in too many sizes to count. He made his way to Virgil's drawing (and had to hold onto his friend's shoulder as he went- the ground was smoother than he thought), staring at the wiggly lines in the snow for longer than he wanted to admit. He tilted his head, tracing the lines in the air, and- _oh!_

A rose with at least the same diameter as Patton's height was spread out in the only place that hadn't been trampled by the younger students, surrounded by a circle of footprints. It was intricate and stunning and the longer Patton looked, the more he wondered why he had taken such a long time to recognise the snow-white flower.

Virgil had always had a hand for art, though he preferred somewhat… unconventional canvases (Patton had posed as one often enough, from having ink connect the freckles over his cheeks to constellations, to having his arms, back and anything else Virgil wanted to draw on entirely covered in paint), and this was just another one he couldn't conserve- there was no way they could afford a camera for more than their school pictures, and besides, it couldn't fully capture the beauty either way.

But his on-paper work was incredible too- Patton had nicked a sketched self-portrait and hidden it in his wallet some time ago, and he wasn't sure if Virgil had noticed yet. (He had seen drawings of himself too, once or twice or even more often, though Virgil always seemed embarrassed by them. He tended to crumple them into tiny balls and shove them into his pockets before Patton could take a closer look, and Patton hoped that someday, Virgil would have a picture he could keep.) Perhaps Virgil could sketch his creation. It was too pretty to be lost entirely.

"It's beautiful," Patton breathed, looking back and forth between the rose and its creator.

"You really think so?" Virgil had taken on a slightly pink tone, and Patton couldn't tell if he was blushing from his praise, or if it was just frost nipping at his cheeks.

"Of course I do!" Patton grinned, then elbowed Virgil in the side. "Sap."

Virgil rolled his eyes. "Dork."

Patton sighed, his gaze wandering to the lake again. His fingers brushed against Virgil's, and he glanced down, smiling at the smears of graphite travelling from his friend's hand to his own.

Virgil nudged his shoulder. "Remember when you fell in?" He pointed to the lake, where a long, overgrown branch was stuck in a sheet of ice.

Patton nodded, shuddering. Despite the years that had passed, the icy water was an all-too-prominent memory- but at least it had been for a good cause. "I wonder how Pebble is doing."

"You got too attached, Pat."

"I did not!" Patton pouted. "I could've kept her, if it weren't for stupid Miss Baker."

"You're _allergic,_ Pat," Virgil sighed. "Someone would've noticed you didn't actually have a cold eventually."

Patton just frowned, glaring at Virgil accusingly.

"But I'm sure Pebble is fine. She probably grew up, found a nice Boulder and now they have little rocklings of their own." Virgil gestured towards the woods. "Somewhere out there."

Patton couldn't help a giggle. "You really think so?"

"'Course!" Virgil's hand found Patton's again. Patton snuggled closer, taking Virgil's left hand between both of his, pressing his freezing fingertips against his palm. "And they still talk about how Mom was saved by a super nice, but kinda short human."

"Hey!" Patton bumped into him, trying his best at a scoff (but a whole stream of giggles left his mouth instead). "I used to be taller than you, you know."

"Yeah, you used to be." Virgil grinned. "You also used to drag any living creature you could find into the house, and- How often did I have to save you from spiders now?"

"Hey, that isn't funny!" Patton whined, pulling his hands away. "Spiders are creepy." He crossed his arms.

"Right, right." Virgil tugged on his arms in an attempt to uncross them, then took Patton's hands in his. "You're very brave."

Patton smiled again, squeezing Virgil's fingers (how he always managed to stay this cold was a mystery to him). His gaze flitted from Virgil's forehead to his cheeks (only resting on his brown eyes for a fraction of a second, unable to take the deep warmth that contrasted with his otherwise downright frosty exterior- though Patton had always managed to melt the ice). It travelled from his chin over his coat- black, long and wet where the snow had soaked it- to his hands. Patton ran his thumb over Virgil's chewed fingernails (a nervous habit he never seemed to leave behind), interlacing their fingers. Something about the action made his heart jump happily- though Patton couldn't entirely place his reaction. He was just glad to have Virgil so close.

And later that evening, Patton would find a drawing on his nightstand- coloured with the pens Virgil had gotten for Christmas last year, the style a mix of every comic book Virgil had hoarded over the last four years- picturing two boys, arm in arm- one with dark hair and eyes, the other with blond, curly hair and an abundance of freckles covering his face- and a grey-striped kitten between them. He would turn it over to find the messy handwriting he had learned to read over the years spelling out: "To my best friend forever. Love you, V"

Patton would smile absent-mindedly, fold up the drawing and tuck it in his pocket, and never let it go ever again.


	4. Secret For The Mad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: (period-typical) homophobia; the word "queer" used to mean not straight but also strange

Virgil snapped awake when someone shook his shoulder, reaching over lazily to make them stop. "Wha...?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Virgil?" _Patton_. He looked down at his lap, adjusted his glasses, then looked up again. "...Can we talk? I promise it won't take long. I just needed to set something straight- I mean, I-" He bit his lip.

"Yeah, sure," Virgil mumbled, barely taking notice of Patton's nerves. He squinted at his watch, not yet awake enough to recognise the time displayed aside from "some time past midnight", then pushed his covers aside and sat up, swaying slightly. "What's up?"

Patton glanced at their roommates, both sleeping soundly, undisturbed by their exchange. "Outside, okay?" he whispered, already jumping up without waiting for an answer.

"Sure, whatever," Virgil muttered, sluggishly following behind Patton as he practically ran out of the room. Patton didn't stop at the hallway, walking towards the door- oh, _all the way_ outside.

By the time they left the building, Virgil was a bit more awake- the fog had disappeared from his brain, and he had realised how nervous Patton was- what on earth did he want to talk about?

He squinted at the quarter moon above their heads, wrapping his arms around himself to protect himself from the March air. It was already warm enough that the nearing spring was noticeable, but still too cold to be out at this time of night comfortably. "So?" Virgil asked. "I'm listening."

Patton bounced on his heels, tearing apart the piece of paper in his hands. Virgil watched the small, white flakes fall to the ground one by one, then looked up when Patton cleared his throat. "I'm gay," Patton said, then immediately bit his lip. "I just thought you should know."

Oh. Virgil stared at him blankly until the words finally reached his brain. _Oh._

Gay. He wasn't sure he could really believe it- that was _Patton_ he was talking to- he wasn't like that. He _couldn't_ be like that. What did that mean? Did Patton feel that way about him? Virgil felt sick.

"Oh," he said. Patton didn't _like_ him, right? That was- for the lack of a better word- queer. Gross.

Patton nodded. He stared at the tiny pile of paper at his feet. "Are you okay with that?"

Virgil shook his head, then, seeing the wounded look on Patton's face, stopped. "I don't know."

Patton glanced down, then up again. Virgil could see tears pooling in his eyes. "Just… don't tell anyone? Please?" His voice was the smallest Virgil had heard it in years.

Virgil nodded, almost robotically. "I won't."

Patton reached for his hand and he flinched back, then was hit by a spike of guilt when Patton's face fell, his body slumping like a deflating balloon. "Good night, Patton," Virgil said. Despite having said the name (and every possible variation of it) countless times, it felt foreign to his tongue, as estranged as the dejected figure in front of him.

"Good night, Vee," Patton replied, the ghost of a smile painted on his face.

And Virgil went back inside, the image of Patton's silhouette- fragile as cracked glass, a harsh word or touch away from shattering- burned in the back of his mind.


	5. Please Leave A Light On When You Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: past homophobia; insecurity; depression; crying (mentioned); cursing

Virgil didn't talk to Patton for the next few days. Those days turned into weeks before he knew it, and then an entire month had passed. A full month without "good morning" and "good night"s, a month without Patton's bubbly laughter (now that he thought about it, he hadn't seen Patton smile at all anymore; as if he had put out the happy flicker and glow inside him), a month in which they both became more and more withdrawn.

Patton didn't speak in class anymore, if he even showed up. Virgil didn't know where he was during the lessons he missed- on too many days, he didn't even get up, barely reacting to the treats the wardens threw his way. He hated the way Patton drooped in on himself like an underwatered flower, entirely silent and numb.

Virgil hadn't noticed how his heart used to beat faster whenever Patton laughed until he didn't anymore; he didn't notice the warmth he exuded until it was gone. He hadn't realised how much he would miss the feeling of his soft hair between his fingers, the bluest eyes he had ever seen, or the prettiest constellations of freckles until they were all out of his reach.

Virgil hadn't noticed he loved him until he pushed him away.

* * *

Virgil hesitated, his fingers curling away from the folded piece of paper as if it could burn him. He stared at the marker that bled through the paper, at the tattered edges, softened from having been in pockets and under pillows for- that was in December, so it had to have been… nearly five months now?

_Love you,_ the pencil note on the back read. And Virgil _did_ love Patton- the longer he thought about it, the more he hated himself for denying it. He wasn't sure what exactly that made him (he did have a very clear memory of wanting to kiss Patton when he was younger)- but he did know that turning his friend away like made him stupid as hell.

He finally unfolded the drawing, placing it on his bed next to the others. Some were drawn in pencil, some lined with his expensive black pens, others in full colour. All of them of Patton.

He made an _astoundingly_ good model. Though he probably wouldn't be considered attractive by most- he was a bit too heavy-set for that; his nose was a bit upturnt and he had been missing a tooth since he was a child.

(He had complained about that to Virgil, once or twice, during a late-night talk in the holidays where they couldn't go home. He talked about how he disliked that his pale skin didn't tan, only freckled- about how his hair never stayed flat, no matter how much gel he tried to fix it with, how he hated himself for thinking so- but that it was too hard to stand, that Virgil had gotten all the looks in the duo. Virgil remembered cupping his face, looking him in the eye and explaining why every bit of him was beautiful until he was tearing up and Patton was openly crying, the sun began to rise and they decided it was time for bed.)

Patton was too kind, too emotional, too genuine for anyone to stick around. Virgil had proven that himself- but that was his own fault. He had been repulsed by the honesty Patton offered, blinded by the thoughts set in his head since he was young. He hadn't stopped for a second to think that maybe, if Patton really was… gay (it was still a struggle to even think the word), it couldn't be that bad.

Virgil's heart had fully broken when he found the drawing he had given Patton on his pillow, neatly folded up, with "thank you" written just above Virgil's note in Patton's neat, round handwriting. If Patton really meant as little to him as he had tried to convince himself, finding that piece of paper wouldn't have felt like being stabbed in the chest.

And seeing all his drawings spread out on his bed like that- some realistic (though he gave up that style quickly; it was a bit too frustrating to deal with for long), most in varying cartoonish styles (everything from _Batman_ to _Archie_ to even an experimental _Donald Duck_), a few just scribbled doodles (eyes behind smudged glasses, the one funny curl that refused to stay with the rest of Patton's hair, soft hands cradling a book like it was the most valuable thing in the world)- made him feel the same pain all over again.

Patton didn't deserve him. But if Virgil didn't see that smile again, he was sure he would die- he at least had to give it a shot.

Virgil gathered up every single drawing, tearing patches from his sketchbook (he had to sacrifice a doodle of a pterodactyl he had been quite proud of, but he could survive without it. He couldn't survive without Patton) and filing through his notes for Latin, then tied them to a package with the fancy ribbon they had found in woodworking in Year Seven.

'_I'm sorry,_' Virgil wrote on a scrap of paper he had torn to be vaguely round, '_I fucked up. Can I meet you at midnight? You know where._' He hesitated before adding: '_Love, V_' He left the note and the drawing under Patton's covers, where he knew Patton would find them, but no one else could.

Now he just had to wait.


	6. Even If It's A Lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: depression (not named, but described); crying; cursing; mentioned abusive parent; mentioned nightmares

Patton took a deep breath of fresh air- the first one in half a lifetime. The night was no longer cold, the late spring heat keeping the wind comfortable enough to walk around without a jacket. Fireflies danced in the distance- Patton remembered when he and Virgil went out to chase them, insisting they were fairies- and the moon shone bright enough that Patton didn’t need a flashlight. His fingers tightened around the small package of drawings he was carrying, desperate to hold something.

He thought about the note he had left on Virgil’s bed (‘_Language! x Pat_’) and hoped that his friend (did Virgil still consider them friends?) understood he was coming.

Patton hadn’t been sleeping well recently. Nightmares had been haunting him since his talk with Virgil- horror scenarios of what would’ve happened if Virgil told everyone; if the class found out; if the teachers found out; if someone told Dad… He shuddered at the blurry memory from yesterday’s dream. That could never happen. Never in a million years.

He glanced at his watch- ten past. What if Virgil wasn’t coming? What if this had been some dumb set-up to make fun of him- or even get him caught? Patton felt sick. He sat down on the bench next to the lake, staring at the door he came through.

His eyes began to droop- he was so _tired_ recently, so endlessly tired; and not just because he was waking up three times a night. Patton felt like he was stuck in quicksand, struggling to keep his head up while everyone piled more and more weight in his arms.

It wasn’t the first time he had gotten stuck like this. The hopelessness wasn’t new, and neither was every thought of self-hatred that wrapped around his ankle and dragged him down even further. But for the last fifteen years, Virgil had been there to pull him back up. Now that Virgil was avoiding him, he was drowning in the quicksand, unable to keep his head up long enough to catch a breath.

The note had been a sudden burst of air in the depths, pulling him out to see the sun for the first time in what felt like an eternity. But now that Virgil wasn’t here _(did he really get stood up?)_ he had been pushed under with twice the force again.

Patton cleaned his glasses on his shirt, squinting at the blurred world around him. The dark trees melted into the black sky and the equally black lake, the only sign of the water in front of him the white specks of moonlight reflecting on the rippling surface.

He barely saw the figure climbing out of the first floor window (ground floor, he corrected himself) until Virgil stopped right in front of him, brushing dust off his pyjamas. "Sorry," Virgil said, breathing heavily. "I got caught, and I-" He shook his head.

Patton stared at the blob in front of him until his sleepy brain had processed that Virgil actually made it there- he set his glasses on his nose again, scrambling to sit up properly. "It's okay!" he blurted. Badly masked relief was shining through his voice, but he decided to ignore that- he was just so, so happy his friend was here. "I mean- you came."

But he couldn't ignore the way his heart skipped at Virgil's voice and crooked smile- the same way that they had always been, but in a different light.

He cursed the heat rising to his cheeks when Virgil scanned him from messy hair to bunny slippers- he cursed the butterflies in his stomach, the sigh of relief he bit back. But no matter how much he tried, he couldn't squash his feelings.

He shouldn't like Virgil the way he did- he shouldn't even think about him like that (or about anyone, really, except for girls- but Patton was pretty sure they weren't for him). But with Virgil, it was worse. They were supposed to be friends- they only ever really needed each other (granted, Patton had tried to befriend other kids- but his classmates here didn't like him, and the others back home were too far away to stay in touch with). If Patton changed that, or confessed feelings of any kind, it would be his fault if they both ended up alone. He had seen how fun alone was over the last month, and he was pretty sure Virgil couldn't stay afloat like that either.

"Of course." Virgil glanced at the lake. "Look, I'm a horrible friend. You don't deserve the bullshit I put you through- but if it's worth anything, I'm sorry." His eyes shifted from the scenery to Patton's hands, to his eyes and back to his hands. Patton could tell he had rehearsed this, at least to some degree.

"I was sorry the entire time from the second I said I didn't know if I was okay with you being- you, but I didn't have the balls to say anything. And now you can say that you don't wanna be friends anymore, and I probably deserve it." He swallowed, and his voice went funny in that Virgil way that meant he was about to cry. "Just… I accept you, okay? And I'll always be on your side. I promise."

Patton blinked. He stared at Virgil for a heartbeat- two, three- until he had processed what he said, and he was almost entirely sure his heart had grown to five times its previous size. Entirely unable to stop himself, he wrapped his arms around Virgil, pulling him in a tight hug. He pretended not to notice his best friend's shaky breathing or the wet patch on his shoulder- he was just so happy to have Virgil back. “I forgive you,” he said (and he meant it- Virgil didn’t need to be punished for his reaction), then mumbled: “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you so much too.” Virgil buried his face in Patton’s neck, and Patton wasn’t sure if he imagined the kiss Virgil pressed to his jaw- he knew he didn't imagine Virgil exhaling like he had been holding his breath for hours, maybe days. They had both reached the surface, and despite the moon standing proudly in the sky, Patton was sure he could feel the sun shining on them again.


	7. Like Real People Do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: alcohol/underage drinking mention

Virgil kissed him on the night of Hallowe'en.

Not a single student had given their ban from leaving the school grounds a second thought, most of them sneaking off to a party in town or trying to find someone who would sell them alcohol. Patton had found a clearing on the other side of the lake (in September, just after the school year began- it had still been warm out then), and they had both transformed into blanket and jacket mummies, but still had to cuddle to stay warm (not that Patton was complaining).

Patton had sighed and meant to make a comment about the leaves piled around them, and how he loved what Virgil had done with his jack-o'-lantern… Then, before he could open his mouth, Virgil kissed him.

Patton froze up- half in confusion, half in shock. Virgil pulled away almost instantly, already beginning to blurt out an apology, but before Patton knew what he was doing, he was kissing Virgil back.

It was awkward at first- Patton really only knew kissing (or kissing that looked nice) from movies. Even then, there were exclusively normal couples. He understood why, of course (no one wanted to see someone like _him_ on TV), but he wouldn't have hated having some kind of reference.

But the awkwardness melted away as Patton melted into the arms Virgil snaked around his waist, holding on to Virgil's shoulders so he wouldn't just slide away. Virgil's lips were soft and warm (Patton was sure he could feel the scar gracing Virgil's lower lip, though that could've been his imagination) and he tasted like the chocolate cake they had for dessert (and Patton had convinced the help to give them leftovers of). Patton felt so warm, so warm and light he probably could've flown away like a hot air balloon if Virgil let go of him.

But Virgil was pulling him endlessly close, staying so gentle, so soft, leaving just enough space for Patton to back away at any second if he needed to. Patton didn't want to back away. He wanted to stay here forever and ever, kissing Virgil under their pile of blankets and coats. He was drowning again, but drowning in some so lovely, so sweet- he was fine with drowning when it meant staying like this.

Virgil's hold around him tightened as Patton was pulled into his lap- he gasped in surprise, then giggled, careful not to break the kiss.

He wasn't sure how long their kiss lasted- it could've been anything from a heartbeat to an hour, but Patton was sure time had stopped for them anyway.

Their embrace ended when something rustled in the bush next to them and Virgil stood up suddenly. Patton protested being pushed off Virgil's lap with a squeak, then jumped up. His knees were still too weak to carry him properly, so he leaned on Virgil as casually as he could, eyeing his friend's bright blush.

Two fighting sparrows flew from the branches, one of them getting caught on a twig on its way out and nearly plummeting to the ground. Patton heard Virgil exhale, the tension leaving his shoulders as he sunk into the blanket pile they left scattered.

Patton followed him, not daring to do more than take Virgil's hands in his. He ran his thumb over Virgil's nails- bitten short and unruly- then the back of his left hand- covered in ink and pencil smudges, doodled on and spotted with paint. He didn't dare look Virgil in the eyes. They sat in silence for a minute, then two, the only sound the distant rustling of leaves in the wind.

Virgil cleared his throat. "Sorry I attacked you," he said. "I probably should've… it's okay if you don't like me like that."

Patton couldn't help but giggle. He had been in love with Virgil for _two whole years_ now and that idiot didn't know if Patton liked him 'like that'? He looked Virgil in the eye, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and pulling himself up until he was the taller one.

"You _idiot_," he said, then kissed the tip of Virgil's nose. "I've liked you-" He kissed Virgil's forehead, "-for _forever-_" left cheek, "-and you-" right cheek, "-didn't notice?" then ended with a peck on his lips. "I _love_ you, you doof, and now it's just about too late to make me stop."

Virgil had gone a brilliant shade of pink by the time Patton was finished, a very eloquent squeak leaving his mouth. He buried his face in Patton's shirt. "How was I supposed to know?" he whined. "I thought _I_ was being obvious about it!"

"You weren't obvious at all; was I supposed to just read your mind?" Patton hugged Virgil closer, hiding his nose in his hair. He couldn't stop grinning, no matter how much he tried. Excitedly fluttering butterflies filled his tummy and kept him warm from the inside out.

"Ideally, yeah," Virgil said into his shirt. "You really didn't notice, though? I thought you were just being nice and trying to let me down gently." He shifted a bit, looking up at Patton.

"I really didn't!" Patton combed his hands through Virgil's hair. "I didn't even know you're gay too."

Virgil flinched back a bit, and Patton let go of him. "I don't really know about that either," he said carefully. "But-" He paused. "I really like you."

Patton giggled. "I really like you too." He cupped Virgil's face in his hands and kissed his forehead again. Could he ever get tired of kissing Virgil? He didn't think so. "Does that mean you're my boyfriend, then?"

Oh, he wished he knew how these things worked. In movies they just always sorta… knew. Mom never talked about how her and Dad got together (and Patton didn't dare to ask Dad himself), and he didn't have a lot of others he could ask. _Gosh_, this was difficult.

Virgil nodded. "I mean… I want it to mean that." He gave Patton a shy smile, the one that made the corners of his eyes crinkle so adorably, and Patton melted. "And that makes you my boyfriend too."

Patton smiled back. "Perfect," he said, and Virgil kissed him again and it really was absolutely and entirely perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heeeey i still know how to write fluff! :D
> 
> you can find my thoughts on the creative process/my other content/more sides stuff i love on [my tumblr](https://daring-elm.tumblr.com) !


	8. Away From Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: homophobia; mentions of abusive parents/past abuse; violent drunks; alcohol in general; losing faith in a higher power

Virgil leaned on the railing, peering down at the dark sea below. Waves crashed against the ship, worn metal clashing with the icy water. The air smelled of salt and ocean and just plain cold, frost biting in Virgil's lungs as he inhaled.

Patton was in his cabin under deck- he had mumbled that he was feeling seasick (and to be fair, he did look quite pale), but his red eyes and hoarse voice said something else. He was scared- of course he was scared.

Virgil would've been scared too, if he had to face Patton's parents. The worst he would get from Pops was a slap and a stern talking to, but Sergeant Alexander was capable of a lot worse, especially since he came back from Germany.

Patton's dad told stories after dinner sometimes, during summer when Virgil and Patton were back home for vacation and weren't allowed to leave the table while their mothers and Patton's sisters washed up. He had always been drinking for an hour or two at that point, and to be honest, Virgil was already scared of him (though he only ever got a heavy hand on his shoulder and liquor breath in his face, accompanied by long speeches where he was called "my boy"). Patton was continuously pale as a ghost and frozen as a hunted deer, twitching as if he was going to be swung at any second.

Virgil promised himself that he wouldn't let Patton get hurt again.

He looked up, but there still wasn't a single bird in sight. They were too far from the shore to see any animals (aside from the fish he assumed were somewhere in the water). Virgil wasn't sure if he should miss the earth under his feet or be glad they hadn't made it yet.

Maybe they were lucky and they would arrive before the school letters did. Of course they would still have to come up with an excuse for why they were there, but everything was easier to explain than the reality- that they had been kicked out for kissing (or rather, for getting caught).

It seemed so stupid to him- kicked out for kissing, for liking each other, for having a relationship like anyone else. But it wasn't like anyone else, was it? They would always be different, always- there was no acceptance for them, just hiding and hoping they wouldn't be found.

Virgil understood what Momma meant when she said Patton would need the luck of all of God's angels. He didn't believe in angels anymore. He didn't believe in luck; he wasn't even sure he could believe in a God if that God just let this happen. How could He love everyone if He let Patton be treated like this? How could the Bible hold any meaning if it had been used to hurt them so much? As far as he had been told, God had rejected him long ago either way.

But even though he didn't think that- didn't know if there was someone listening, Virgil prayed. He prayed for Patton. He prayed for love, that someone would step in and Patton would be saved from his father; he prayed that they had a chance to stay together for the longest possible time they could. He prayed for hope and strength and the courage to keep loving Patton, no matter what. He prayed for time; for the world to end before their bond did. He prayed for hope and for a better future- for the chance to love openly, so that one day, there wasn't a single gay kid who had to live in fear.

Virgil didn't know who was listening, if God actually heard him or if he was just talking to the fish in the ocean below, but he prayed to God and the angels, to the wind and the sun and the ship and the ocean and the land they would arrive at soon.

"Keep him safe," he muttered, letting the breeze carry his voice away. "Keep him safe, or I swear I will. I swear I'll stay with him forever."

And as he spoke into the emptiness of the endless ocean, Virgil was almost sure he could feel Something smiling down at him.


	9. One Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: mentions of homophobia; general creepy stuff; spiders

"Oh, _ Virgil _," Momma sighed. She hugged her son to her chest- though he was a head taller than her by now- and Virgil couldn't help but feel like he was a little kid again, crawling into his parents' bed after waking up from a nightmare.

Maybe this was all just a nightmare; maybe he would wake up back at school with Patton in the bed across from his (he had been dropped off at his house by the official, who had barely spoken a word with them the entire trip only giving them the occasional disgusted glance) and Levi and Jake around them. He could wake up and everything would go back to normal. But he knew all this couldn't be a dream.

Momma opened her arms again, and Virgil turned to see Patton, who was standing in the opened door, clutching a piece of paper in his left hand and holding his right to his mouth as if it were the last thing keeping him from bursting into tears. "C'mere, Pat," she said, and Patton didn't need another invitation- he let himself be pulled into the hug; let Virgil's arm wrap around him as well. He shook his head, hiding his face in Momma's shoulder.

"They're not there, are they?" Momma rubbed Patton's back soothingly, talking to him like a kid that had fallen off his bike. Virgil had never noticed how much she had been taking care of Patton until just now.

"It's- all gone," Patton croaked, his voice an inch away from breaking. He crumpled the paper in his hand into a ball. "_ All _ of it."

"I know, sweetheart." Momma kissed his forehead. "Your dad didn't make it back from Korea. Though I'm sure that's not what you're so heartbroken about." Patton nodded, and some of the tension left his shoulders. Virgil knew it was horrible to wish for someone's death like that, but in some weird way, it still felt like the universe had heard his prayer. He just couldn't believe no one told them about the death of Sergeant Alexander until now.

"Your Mama left with June after she got the letter from school, God knows where she went." The tension was back- Patton would never get to see them again, either. Virgil never had any siblings (sisters, especially, had to be pretty boring), but he knew this couldn't be a nice way to lose them. "Sold all her stuff and told the entire town first, though." Momma's grip tightened around them, her voice going cold. "I don't think they're coming back, love."

She let go of them. Patton stayed on Virgil's shoulder and Virgil took his hand, brushing his thumb over Patton’s palm soothingly- if Momma was surprised, she didn't show it. "You can't stay here. People are talking- they don't want-" She paused. "-your kind around."

Virgil nodded, an uneasy feeling settling in his stomach. They had been kicked out of school- their home for the last six years- and now they couldn't even stay here. They had to leave, _ again _, so they wouldn't get hurt. Virgil's fingers tightened around Patton's.

But he had promised that he wouldn't let anyone hurt Patton again, and he was going to stick to that promise, no matter what it took.

* * *

The house was exactly as Virgil remembered, the lake as calm and boring as it had been since he was three and came here for the first time. Everything looked almost frozen in time- the house wasn't as overgrown and barely as dusty as he expected. The vines crawling up the mailbox and covering the abandoned bicycles in the yard seemed to halt at the house, as if they were scared to touch it.

Patton unlocked the door and it slid open as if the lock had last been used yesterday, and not four years ago. He held it open for Virgil, taking his suitcase with a deep bow and an "after you". Virgil giggled and curtsied, then stepped into the entrance. He halted.

The inside was spotless. Momma had warned them that some kind of animal had probably made its home inside the cottage, or that hobos had decided to move in and mess up the place- but it looked like a show home, as if it was ready to be sold, or painted in a picture book. Virgil shuddered. Something was weird.

Patton ran his fingertips over the dining table and inspected the heavy layer of dust covering them. He sneezed, then giggled, setting his glasses straight. "Well, it could be worse!"

Virgil hummed, inspecting the corners for spiders. One of them was sitting next to the staircase- it looked very well-fed, sitting in a web that stretched all the way down from the ceiling. "Pat, don't look," Virgil instructed him. Patton nodded and stared at the window while Virgil scooped it up with a newspaper he had found in the train, then tossed the spider outside.

“Y’know, it’s weird,” Patton said when Virgil came back inside.

Virgil wrapped his arms around Patton’s shoulders, sneaking a kiss on his cheek. “Hm?”

Patton giggled. “I thought it’d look older. Instead, it’s all just kinda… frozen.” He stood on his tiptoes to kiss Virgil back, holding onto his boyfriend’s arms and playing with the braided bracelet dangling from his right wrist- Patton had a matching one, and so did Dorothy back at school.

She had found them in the night before they left, and given them the bracelets- her and her girlfriend in the village made them together. The bracelets were something to remember her by, she said, and to remind them that they weren’t alone. Patton definitely shed a tear or eighty that night- and though Virgil hadn’t wanted to talk about it, Patton had seen tears in his eyes as well.

“I mean…” Patton continued. “You remember having to clean up whenever we got here, right? And the raccoon we found under Mary’s bed, and the weeds in the garden… now it’s just dusty. It’s kinda weird.”

“Ooh, you think it’s haunted? Maybe a ghost is just gonna sneak up and grab you!” Virgil picked Patton up and twirled him around, making him squeal and kick helplessly, before setting him down again.

“_ Noo! _” Patton squeaked, freeing himself from Virgil’s grip. He crossed his arms and blew up his cheeks in an exaggerated pout, then sighed. “I dunno- don’t you think it’s strange? It’s like time stopped in here.”

Virgil hummed. “It’s definitely strange- but we can live with a ghosty roommate, right? We definitely have enough bedrooms.” One downstairs next to the kitchen, and three upstairs- enough to fit all eight of them (or at least, back then there had still been eight of them) in the tiny house. Way too much space to use up with just the two of them- why not give a ghost a home?

"Of course we can- especially if he's helping to keep our house clean!" Patton giggled, then frowned at the dusty table. "Or, clean-ish. But we can work on that!" He brightened up again. "We'll have to make a whole day or two out of it- I'm sure Mom left cleaning supplies in one of the cupboards! It can't take too long." He yawned, stretching his arms back. "But that's an issue for tomorrow, right?"

Virgil smiled softly, listening to Patton ramble. God, he was so _ cute _\- it was hard to believe he had the luck of spending all his life with him. He could ignore the creepy ghost house and work around the isolation they had to stay in if that meant that they could live in peace.

"I love you," he said instead of replying.

And when Patton smiled back at him, his impossibly blue eyes sparkling like diamonds, Virgil knew that everything would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one was hard to get through- but still, i made it!
> 
> see you next chapter! :D


	10. I'm Nothing Without You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: death mention; mentioned past homophobia

Patton pressed a kiss to Virgil's cheek, then another one, and another one, until Virgil turned to meet him halfway, their lips finally meeting. He smiled into the kiss and left Patton's mouth, lazily trailing kisses over his cheeks, nose, and forehead, making sure to get at least every other freckle covered. Patton giggled and snuggled closer to Virgil, wrapping his arm around his boyfriend's chest.

Virgil grunted when he couldn’t reach the corner of Patton’s eye- he pulled off his glasses, folding them and carefully setting them in the grass next to his head. Patton whined. The darkness already wasn’t helping him see, and without his glasses, everything more than three inches away from his nose was reduced to a blur. He pulled Virgil close so he could see his soft brown eyes again- though without the sunlight illuminating them, they were near black, dark as the oil paint Virgil had bought in the village yesterday. Patton wasn’t allowed to see what he was working on yet, but he was sure (and he told Virgil so over and over) that it was magnificent.

_ Virgil _ was magnificent. Patton couldn’t believe how beautiful his boyfriend looked, with the moonlight shining on his face, his hair falling in his eyes- despite the darkness, they were still shining like the stars above.

"I love you," Patton said. And it was true, it was so true- he loved Virgil so much. He loved his exaggerated groan when he made a bad pun; he loved the way his arms fit around him so perfectly; he loved how they knew each other so perfectly well, fitting together like clockwork. He loved that Virgil was calm where he was loud, cautious where he was impulsive- he loved that they completed each other without another thought towards it.

Patton couldn't shake the idea that they were made for each other- and honestly, was that even such a bad thought? He had never been happier than in the last two years he got to share with Virgil; and he would give up everything to just keep loving him until the day he died.

"I love you too." Virgil kissed him again, and though it definitely wasn't their first kiss (Patton still thought back at it sometimes- they had been fifteen back then, and so inexperienced, so scared- but even though it certainly wasn't their best kiss, he wouldn't trade it for the world), nor their most monumental one (just months later- they had both been sixteen by then, and been discovered and ratted out by John and his girlfriend, who were searching for a private place for a similar reason), it still made him melt like snow meeting the spring sun. He didn't think he could get tired of kissing Virgil.

They had settled into routine- Patton kept the garden and looked after the chickens; Virgil painted and on occasion, drew portraits in town. Routine kept them in place, for sure- but Patton was still so easily bored by it. Nights like this, where they could leave the house and stargaze on that lovely little clearing in the woods, were a breath of fresh air, and such a lovely one.

"Remember when we went here the first time?" Virgil pulled him closer, hiding his nose in Patton's hair.

Patton nodded softly, so he didn't disturb his boyfriend's position. "We were what, seven? There were fireworks- you looked so scared by them." He giggled.

"That was probably your imagination." Virgil grinned at him. "I've never been scared of anything-  _ hey! _ " He pushed Patton's hands away when his boyfriend poked his sides. Laughter tumbled from his mouth before he had the chance to fight it back, and Patton just laughed along with him.

Quickly enough the tables were turned, though, and Patton pedaled back when Virgil attacked his ribs. Giggles bubbled in his chest, and he pushed Virgil away, making him ease up.

Virgil pulled him closer again. Patton rested his head on his chest with a sigh, all tension leaving him when Virgil started playing with his hair. He gazed at the blurry stars above, and though he knew they were almost endlessly far away, the heavens never seemed closer than in that moment.


	11. Taking Care of Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: mentions of homophobia; anxious thoughts; storms

Virgil dropped his bag on the table, throwing his soaked coat on a chair. He sighed, then ran his hand through his wet hair, combing it back.

Patton hurried out of the kitchen. He eyed the stuff Virgil piled on the table, ready to scold him about the cushions soaking through- then he saw the look Virgil gave him, dejected and scared, and he took his boyfriend's hands instead, standing on his toes to kiss his cheek. "What's wrong, Vee?"

His hands were freezing again. He had been out at the market all day, selling eggs and produce and paintings and the occasional sweater- it had started to rain suddenly, storm clouds tearing open within minutes, barely giving him enough time to pack up before he was already soaked and chilled to the bone.

But with the glances people had given him, the whispers surrounding him at all times, Virgil had already been thrown in ice water and left to drown in his own anxiety. He knew what they were talking about. He knew that him and Patton were strange, queer; he knew that rumours about them had made it to every corner of the small town and back. But knowing it didn't make it easier- more the opposite.

"People were talking again," he mumbled. "And I-" He sighed. "What if they decide to  _ do _ something about us? I just- I don't want you to get hurt."

Patton wrapped his arms around Virgil's waist. "I won't let that happen, 'kay? I promise." He stretched up for another kiss, and Virgil bent down, softening against Patton's lips.

"Mm." He sighed, pulling Patton close. "Never change, okay?" He didn't think he could bear to lose Patton the way he was right now- he fit in his arms so perfectly; he was so sweet, so cute- so handsome, too; Virgil was convinced he had scored the fate jackpot when the universe set him and Patton together. How else could he possibly explain how he had gotten to meet the absolute prettiest person in existence? How else could he have the luck to grow up next to him- how else would he even had gotten close to him if they hadn't been best friends their entire lives? He was the luckiest guy in the world, just because Patton was by his side.

Patton giggled. "Okay. Love you!" Then (with another soft peck) he left the embrace to finish up dinner.

Of course Virgil knew that change would come. Of course he knew Patton couldn't always stay the way he was. He knew that fights would come again- there had been enough in their past, while they were still in school (practically children, Virgil thought when looking back), and they happened now too- mostly over stupid things that they had either forgotten by bedtime or resolved the morning after. He knew the people in town would continue to dislike them, but they lived far away enough to ignore it. They were lucky enough not to have direct neighbours they needed to act normal around.

Virgil  _ hated _ having to hide. He loved Patton so much he felt like it would kill him if he didn't show it as much as he could- but they could only ever show affection in their home. Out in town, Virgil had to bite his tongue to stop himself from calling his boyfriend "love"; he had to clasp his hands together so he didn't end up holding Patton's; he had to fight every impulse to touch him and kiss him because he never knew who was around to see.

One day, he might be able to love Patton openly, but today wasn't that day, and tomorrow wouldn't be it either. For now, they had to stay by themselves, in their cottage in the forest, and love each other secretly.

And if that was what kept Patton safe, Virgil decided it had to be good enough for now.


	12. No One But You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: gun violence; pretty much every homophobic slur i could find; vague description of blood; description of what it feels like to be shot; alcohol-induced violence; self-neglect

Two gunshots tore through the night.

Virgil jumped away from Patton as his boyfriend silenced the record player- the lovely, soft warmth that had just been in his arms was replaced by a sensation past unease- this was  _ fear. _

The lock popped open. Virgil turned to his boyfriend, and his eyes screamed with the same fear that was coursing through Virgil's veins, making his heart pound loud enough that he couldn't comprehend anything else. "Hide," Virgil mouthed. Patton didn't. He was frozen into place, only managing to reach for Virgil's hand. Tears were gathering in his eyes.

The door was pushed open, and the first thing Virgil saw emerging from it was the barrel of a hunting rifle stuck through the frame, still smoking. Patton squeezed his hand hard enough that he was sure circulation was cut off entirely, but he couldn't bring up the piece of mind to care- it reminded him that Patton was by his side. He wasn't alone. They still had each other.

Patton's grip on his hand was tethering him to reality, even when a man stumbled out from behind the door, brandishing the rifle angrily.

"I've had about enough of you queers," he blubbered, pointing the rifle at Patton. Patton whimpered, glancing at the barrel. "Y'all're gonna bring the… the downfall of this country, ya fuckin' faggots." He reeked of moonshine and tobacco, and could barely stand without swaying terribly. He swung his rifle, focusing it on Virgil next.

Virgil winced. He bit his lip, fighting back tears- he knew how these things ended. He couldn't- he  _ wouldn't _ let that happen to Patton. A shaky step in front of Patton was all he could manage for that moment- slow and steady, no need to alarm the guy.

"Get outta the way, ya fairy!" He slammed his fist on the table and Patton flinched so hard he bumped against the grandfather clock.

The man fired. He hit Patton in the shoulder- Virgil couldn't jump in front of him in time- and Patton screamed, clutching the bullet wound. He staggered backwards, and Virgil gripped his hand tighter, unable to say a word. He looked back and forth between Patton and the man's gun.

"Stop crying, you nasty pansy!" The man hit the table again. Patton flinched. Tears ran down his cheeks, his adorable, freckled cheeks, and Virgil was terrified he would never see them twist to show his beautiful smile ever again.

The man reloaded his rifle, fumbling with the ammunition awkwardly. He staggered. "Stop crying!" he repeated. " _ You! _ " He pointed the barrel at Virgil, and Virgil jumped. "Make him stop crying,  _ now! _ "

Virgil hugged Patton tight, gently brushing over his hand. "It's gonna be okay, love. It's gonna be okay." They had to leave- they had to  _ leave _ , right now. They had to distract him; they had to get that gun away; they had to do  _ something _ .

" _ Don't call him that, queer! _ " The man fired another shot, and it hit the clock. The glass shattered. Virgil flinched, and Patton sobbed, still clutching his shoulder. Virgil turned in front of Patton before he could shoot again.

He fired twice. Both shots hit Virgil in the chest. He didn't notice at first- he only felt something wet run down his back and noticed his knees giving away. He saw Patton's horrified expression, saw him drop to his knees, shaking his shoulder. Heard him beg, beg for him to stay alive. "I love you," he said. As if it was the last thing he'd ever say to him.

Virgil very suddenly felt like he had been punched in the chest with something like a hammer, or an anvil. He wheezed, lifting his hand to his ribs to check the bruises that had to be there and propping himself up on his elbow. Patton's face lit up with the tiniest sliver of hope. "Virgil!" he cried. "Virgil, please be okay, Virgil please,  _ please- _ "

The man pulled the trigger and a last shot hit Patton's forehead, entering his skull with a sickening crunch. Patton dropped down; he folded in on himself like a marionette whose strings had been cut.

Virgil didn't notice that the man dropped his rifle when he sat up again, the only evidence of the bullets that had pierced his chest the dried blood on his shirt. He didn't notice that he ran from the cottage, leaving it alone and frozen in time again.

He only noticed Patton, Patton's limp body in his arms, Patton's glassy blue eyes behind his smudged glasses, Patton's blood flowing from his forehead and shoulder. "I love you," he said, barely realizing the words leaving his mouth. "Pat, I love you- please wake up. Please wake up, okay, Pat? I love you- I don't wanna be without you. I love you, Patton, please don't go. Don't go, okay?" He cradled Patton in his arms. "Don't go."

But Patton was already gone.

* * *

Later Virgil would see the scars on his chest and remember that he was shot. He would notice that by all logic, he was supposed to die, die alongside Patton, die instead of Patton. He shouldn't have been the one to die.

He would bury Patton under the pine trees by the lake and plant his favourite flowers on the grave. He would spend months in that cursed house, not even noticing how it cleaned himself, always returning to the way it looked seconds before Patton died. He would leave it one day, after withering away in his studio for days, weeks on end, not eating, not sleeping, covering himself in paint and drowning himself in grief.

He would say goodbye to Patton, entirely void of tears- he didn't think he had any left to cry.

And he would remember his promise from all those years ago- that he would stay here, that he would love Patton until the world ended. Forever and always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's it!
> 
> i hope you enjoyed you look so pretty, sorry for the ending
> 
> i hope you'll still be there for the rest of the series- i swear i won't just leave it like this
> 
> [here's](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1qvUggbzEzqmGRAGtx8JJ9?si=__pPUVOcQDqaWcm4NqkwrQ) a spotify playlist with all the chapter titles so far  
and [here's](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6d3pTwHlWWydw6y651xi9V?si=dbLVH0NrQsiReRKvqfo0ZA) the same thing for part 2 (all titles so far + the next one i'll publish)!
> 
> come yell at me on [my tumblr](https://daring-elm.tumblr.com/)! this series is my lifeblood and all comments mean the world to me
> 
> speaking of, thank you to everyone who commented- especially to those who said something on each chapter, y'all really kept me going 💖
> 
> until the next fic!  
casey 🌳


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